You know when you’re younger you
have this idea of what old is and it usually came with a number. You remember that
magical number that signifies the dawning of senility and the need for walking
devices that was not needed before; well, I’ve hit that and apparently passed
it. It’s funny how that number can change as you grow older anyway. I mean come on… 30 was damn near ancient and
dinosaurs, toilet paper, and running water wasn’t available when that person
was a kid. Ideas of what classified “old” were some simple things like going to
bed before the 10 o’clock news, falling asleep in the chair watching movies,
complaining about hurting anywhere, hair growing in places it shouldn’t, grey
hair, and just not being able to play 24/7.
I have reached the magic number (a bit ago) and now have reached some of the other requirements (10:30 p.m. kills me and I hurt everywhere). Waxing has become part of my life and it isn’t just a want to tame down the caterpillars, but to also remove the hairs I swore only great grannies had and not to mention how gravity works on the human body. The female body as it ages can be beautiful, but let’s face it, we are not all Demi Moore. The idea of being a “cougar” is quite entertaining but again it also throws out the “omg! He is dating his mommy” vibe at the same time which just freaks me the freak out and it’s like the “dirty old man” staring at the young girls with his mouth open and drool hanging out. Getting back to gravity and the wonders if has on the body, one finds that illness, surgeries, and other freaky little health things come more frequently as you age. You find yourself saying things like “Do you need a tissue and some germ-x?” or “Are you serious?! You’re flipping sick and you came in?! Great, now my whole family is gonna get it.” When it used to be, “Oh, shit! Girl that sucks! Want a beer?” I miss those days at times and then I’m also glad that those days are long gone and done. I mean I loved every minute of it but let’s face it, if a genie came and said “I grant you the wish of being 21 again.” I think my anxiety would flip into overdrive and the realization that I would have to re-learn all this crap again, find love again, and babies (with no guarantee of the same babies) would just plain suck. Nope, I guess I’m somewhat happy with right where I am…wanna come play in old-dom with me?
I have reached the magic number (a bit ago) and now have reached some of the other requirements (10:30 p.m. kills me and I hurt everywhere). Waxing has become part of my life and it isn’t just a want to tame down the caterpillars, but to also remove the hairs I swore only great grannies had and not to mention how gravity works on the human body. The female body as it ages can be beautiful, but let’s face it, we are not all Demi Moore. The idea of being a “cougar” is quite entertaining but again it also throws out the “omg! He is dating his mommy” vibe at the same time which just freaks me the freak out and it’s like the “dirty old man” staring at the young girls with his mouth open and drool hanging out. Getting back to gravity and the wonders if has on the body, one finds that illness, surgeries, and other freaky little health things come more frequently as you age. You find yourself saying things like “Do you need a tissue and some germ-x?” or “Are you serious?! You’re flipping sick and you came in?! Great, now my whole family is gonna get it.” When it used to be, “Oh, shit! Girl that sucks! Want a beer?” I miss those days at times and then I’m also glad that those days are long gone and done. I mean I loved every minute of it but let’s face it, if a genie came and said “I grant you the wish of being 21 again.” I think my anxiety would flip into overdrive and the realization that I would have to re-learn all this crap again, find love again, and babies (with no guarantee of the same babies) would just plain suck. Nope, I guess I’m somewhat happy with right where I am…wanna come play in old-dom with me?
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